


Sherlollipops - Delicate

by MizJoely



Series: 221 Sherlollipops [203]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Pirate!lock, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 11:20:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8100487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: Sherlock muses on how deceiving appearnaces can be, especially when it comes to Miss Molly Hooper. Pirate AU circa 1800.





	

She was a delicate thing, too delicate for the sea and for his rough life and rough hands; too delicate to even exist outside the genteel salons and tea-rooms of Surrey where she’d lived her entire life.

And yet, that outward delicacy, as he’d quickly discovered, hid a core of purest steel. Hard yet flexible, as if she had a finely-wrought sword where her spine should be. Lord knew he’d done his best to break her in his grief and anger, but he’d never quite managed the destruction of her spirit the most base, uncivilized part of him seemed to crave. She’d bent, but never broken.

Instead, _he’d_ been the one to give in, to surrender his reluctant heart to her small, capable and - yes, dammit, _delicate_ \- hands.

“Miss Molly Hooper,” he murmured as he lay beneath her in his snug bunk, fingers sliding through the cascades of cinnamon-coloured hair tumbling over her shoulders.

“Captain Sherlock Holmes,” she replied in what could only be described as deliberate mimicry of his serious tone, humour glinting in her chocolate-brown eyes as she rested her hands on his bare chest. “Now that we’ve properly introduced ourselves - or rather, _improperly_ introduced ourselves - would you mind very much if we got on with these very interesting activities you’ve so recently persuaded me to join you in?”

Neatly-trimmed fingernails scraped suggestively at his chest, sending a shudder of desire through his frame, and he nodded. “Any time, my lady,” he said, his voice gone husky with a combination of wonder and desire - desire for her and her alone, and wonder that someone so fragile in appearance - so delicate in face and form - could hold such strength in her.

Strength enough to rule him, when she was ostensibly his captive, his prize, the only booty he’d claimed after he and his crew had bested the ship on which she’d been a passenger.

She’d ridden the high seas, and now she rode atop him, sweat glistening on her delectable body, eyes shining with lust, breaths coming in sharp pants as she rose and fell with the rhythm of their joined bodies. He lowered his hands to her hips, easing her forward in a manner precisely calculated to bring her the most pleasure, and was rewarded by a loud gasp and the sharp scrape of her nails as they dug into his chest. The sensation sent another shudder of desire through him, and his movements increased until at last he was rewarded by her shout of pleasure.

She collapsed atop him, her face nestled into the nook where his shoulder and neck met, and he gave her a moment to recover herself before allowing himself to reach his own climax.

Yes, he thought as he held her close and felt their hearts beating in tandem, delicate she might be…but more than strong enough to endure the life he now willingly shared with her.


End file.
